


Don't Be a Stranger

by prompt_fills



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Friendship, Humor, M/M, Rock and Roll, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-27 16:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompt_fills/pseuds/prompt_fills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando uses his love for clubs and Rock and Roll to get over his stupid crush on Sergio. Like crushing on a mysterious stranger from a club is any better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Be a Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/profile)[**footballkink2**](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/), PP3, [this prompt](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/9132.html?thread=2533036#t2533036):  
>  _I know there's been kind of an overkill of Torres prompts lately but this is just too good to pass out on imo. Torres said in a recent (and incredibly good) interview that he loves going to go to Rock and Roll clubs in London where no one has any idea who he is. That sort of made me picture him going to those places to let loose, go wild and meet (hook up with) random men. Or it could be about him taking a player of your choice to the clubs and showing them how he likes to have fun in them. Brownie points if you include what kind of music he listens to (if I'm not mistaken he's said he likes Nirvana/Kurt Cobain and Elvis)._
> 
> Nirvana’s songs mentioned in the fic, as they’ll be appearing:  
>  _♫♪Smells Like Teen Spirit, About A Girl, Drain You, All Apologies, Lithium, Aneurysm♪♫_  
> 

**…**

**♫♪**

**…**

  


Fernando stops the car and checks his appearance in the rear view mirror. Then he shrugs on the leather jacket and gets out of his car, reassured that his guyliner isn’t smudged.

He has the way to his favourite club memorised and it doesn’t take long to reach it. He prefers to slip in without drawing any attention.

The novelty of what he does wore off pretty quickly – by now he doesn’t even feel the rush of adrenaline before entering the club.  
Now he’s here to _have fun_. The music is blasting loud and Fernando smiles to himself, briefly closing his eyes and bopping his head to the rhythm.

_♫♪With the lights out, it's less dangerous. Here we are now, entertain us. I feel stupid and contagious. Here we are now, entertain us.♪♫_

A warm body brushes past him and Fernando opens his eyes just in time to appreciate the view of a scantily clad woman sashaying her way through the crowd.  
Someone’s hand closes around his waist and Fernando is just about to turn around with a flirtatious smile on his lips when his phone goes off.

He smacks the stranger’s hand away as he pats the front pocket of his jeans for his phone.  
He scowls at the screen and then he hurries out of the club to accept the call. An unfamiliar scent of an aftershave that’s definitely not his lingers in his memory as he returns back to the busy streets of London.

**…**

“Iker?” Fernando huffs into the phone, sounding half surprised, half annoyed.

“Hey, listen, is Sergio with you?”

“What?!”

“I need to– Did he tell you where he had gone?”

Fernando shakes his head in disbelief, walking down the street, away from the club. Slowly, like he’s talking to a petulant child, Fernando explains that he definitely hadn’t seen Sergio because – surprisingly – he’s still in England.

“So is Sergio,” Iker replies. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what? Has something happened?”  
“Oh, no, nothing.” Fernando clearly hears the false reassuring tone in Iker’s voice.

“Um, Iker?”

“Ah, forget it. Take care,” Iker says quickly and the line goes silent.

Fernando does the only sensible thing now, he scrolls down his contact list and dials Sergio’s number. Sergio picks it up on the seventh ring. “Hey, Sergio. I hear you’re in London.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m. I’ve just arrived!”

Fernando raises his eyes to the sky but it’s not like Sergio could see that. “Need me to pick you up from the airport? Where are you now?”

“No! I’m fine, man. Really. Will catch up with you later, okay?”

That’s a bit strange. “Okay,” he says slowly and Sergio hangs up on him. Fernando briefly considers calling right back but then he acknowledges that today is just going to be the day when he doesn’t get to have the last word.

**…**

“You’ve picked up smoking?” Sergio asks, incredulous. His tone is a little accusing, which is surprising because it’s _Sergio_.  
It wouldn’t be true to say that Fernando started smoking; he just never gave up in the first place, that would be more accurate statement.  
He’s an occasional smoker – a social smoker. It’s not the same as if he took up smoking for the second time. He doesn’t have the urge to smoke.  
It’s been nearly two months since the last time he smoked and this day was definitely a day when he deserved it. He isn’t just about to explain it to Sergio.

“Not really,” he answers, puffing out a smoke.

Sergio’s eyebrows arch questioningly. Fernando gives him the middle finger and takes a long drag. “You’ll be staying long?”

“Just this week. Is that okay?”

Fernando takes his time before releasing the cigarette from his lips and exhaling. “Be my guest,” he waves his hand.

“I’ve got some things to do,” Sergio says, scowling at Fernando, “you won’t be seeing much of me anyway.”

“Ok.” Fernando put out the cigarette and got up from his seat.

Sergio blinks. “Where are you going?”

“For a ride. Mum.”

Sergio winces. “Sorry.”

**…**

**…**

Fernando finds himself in the club again the next evening. It’s not like he’s looking for _the stranger_. That window is closed now. Maybe he’s a bit disappointed when he doesn’t find him. Then again, maybe not; he had no idea who it was anyway.

There is a sweet young boy leering at him during the whole evening and Fernando finds it disturbing. He pays the boy no attention, he’s not Fernando’s type, he looks to fragile and well, boyish.

But the boy keeps staring and Fernando quickly becomes uneasy, worrying that the boy had recognized him.

Fernando clenches his hand, wondering if the boy has been observing him, judging. Or worse, hoping to score and sell the story.

Fernando ditches the girl he’d been chatting up, his good mood completely gone.

He leaves the club, feeling even more irritated than before.

**…**

“You okay?” Sergio leans down and yanks the earplug from Fernando’s right ear.

From his favourite armchair, Fernando glares at Sergio and ignores the question. Sergio lets go of the earplug and studies the empty glass on the table. “You seem a bit tense,” Sergio prompts, absolutely unaffected by Fernando’s glare.

Fernando pours himself another shot from the bottle. “Didn’t you say you have some pressing matters to deal with while in London?”

Sergio flops himself down on Fernando’s couch and tilts his head backwards, starring up at Fernando. “Nope, I’m here just because I wanted to see your pretty eyes.”

Fernando fights the blush that tries to creep in his cheeks and takes a gulp of his drink; the alcohol burning pleasantly as it goes down his throat. “Liar,” Fernando says calmly, “you’re here to grope my ass.”

A snort. “That was _one_ time and it was _an accident_.”

“Accident, my ass!” Fernando replies, his lips quirking upwards in a grin.

“I need a drink, too,” Sergio groans.

**…**

Sergio is a pleasant company to have around in the house, Fernando realises. They don’t get in each other’s way and some evening Sergio isn’t even at Fernando’s home so Fernando doesn’t really have the time to get sick of the sight of Sergio.  
Also, Fernando is quite positive he could never get sick of that. A week seems like a very short time, actually.

“What time do you need to be at the airport?” Fernando asks, watching Sergio pour drinks for both of them.

“You’re too good to me,” Sergio says and as he hands Fernando his glass, he ruffles his hair, chuckling.

Fernando is sure the blush is definitely there this time.

**…**

 

**…**

It’s a stormy night and Fernando finds his shelter against the torrential rain in the club.

Fernando takes a breath of his cigarette, stubbornly skimming the club with his eyes, searching.  
His body is swaying to the rhythm; feeling the music pulse around him, with him, in him.  
And then, then his patience finally pays off. A slow grin spreads across Fernando’s features when he feels the arms slide around his waist, pulling him closer until he’s pressed flush against the man’s chest. Then the man leans closer until he’s resting his chin on Fernando’s shoulder. The smell – the strong and unique scent from _before_ – fills his nose.  
Fernando feels the small warm puffs of the man’s breath against his ear. He shivers. “Oh God,” he breaths out.

The stranger doesn’t speak up, he only chuckles.

Fernando is turning his head back to draw the stranger close, to press their lips together and to sneak his hands down the warm body, to grab and never let go – but then the lights go out, leaving everything in a complete darkness.

Fernando feels the man behind him tense.

“It’s just temporary. Don’t panic, people,” someone calls out loudly to the deafening silence of the club. “It’s a transient fault.”

Indeed, the lights flicker on soon. But when Fernando looks around, his stranger is gone.

“Damn it.”

**…**

“That is _cheating_!” Sergio yells at him when Fernando takes a shortcut and leaps up the stairs, touching the doors first.

“Sore loser,” Fernando calls back at him. “You’re buying us dinner.”

Sergio closes on him in a matter of seconds, mock glaring and shaking his hand threateningly at Fernando.

Grinning, Fernando reaches out to pat Sergio on his shoulder but Sergio steps closer, misinterpreting it, and they end up in an awkward hug. It sets them both off and Fernando leans against Sergio to keep himself from literally doubling over.  
He holds himself up with his one palm pressed against Sergio’s chest and he feels the rumble of Sergio’s laughter under his fingers.

“I’m calling for a pizza,” Sergio wheezes.

Fernando takes in a long breath to compose himself and that’s when his nose is attacked by the curious whiff of Sergio’s aftershave.  
Fernando discretely tries to take another sniff at the smell; it’s definitely the same one his stranger from the club uses.

Fernando bits his lip but even that doesn’t stop him from blurting out: “What aftershave do you use?”

Granted, Sergio gives him a funny look, but he answers the question and that’s the important thing here. Fernando beams at Sergio, who retreats a few steps and crosses his arms.  
If Fernando didn’t know better, he’d say Sergio is also avoiding his eyes. But he surely must be seeing things because shortly after that, Sergio licks his lips and asks: “So, do you have any plans for the evening?” Fernando knows it translates to a night of drinking.

Fernando has plans. Actually, he only has one pretty simple plan – return to the club tonight, find his stranger and fuck him up against the wall.  
He knows he got a little close to being fully obsessed but there is something about the anonymity of the club and the thrill of not having to be Fernando fucking Torres. Not even drinking himself to oblivion with Sergio beats that. Drinking is for when he wants to forget. And he doesn’t want to forget any of this.

“Sorry man, I already have plans. Rain check?”

Something like hurt flickers in Sergio’s eyes as he replies: “Sure, next time.”

As he watches Sergio disappear into the house, Fernando feels only a little guilty for picking the stranger over Sergio. But his stranger is safe. Sergio... Fernando told himself he’d gotten over Sergio a long time ago. Every now and then, he simply needs to remind himself – no more crushing on Sergio.

Bloody perfect Sergio.

**…**

_♫♪I need an easy friend, I do, with an ear to lend, I don't think you fit this shoe, I do, won't you have a clue, I'll take advantage while you hang me out to dry, but I can't see you every night free.♪♫_

**…**

 

**…**

Fernando ends up buying the aftershave. He doesn’t know why exactly – perhaps he wants to do his Christmas shopping extra early this year or he wants his bedroom to smell like his stranger, enhancing the fantasy he sometimes indulges himself in.  
Neither of those are the whole picture, if Fernando is being honest with himself. The vial ends up opened but unused on the shelf above the sink in his bathroom.  
Fernando can’t bring himself to use it for anything because each time he closes his eyes and tries to picture the stranger from the club, he hears Sergio’s quiet laughter in his ears.

**…**

Fernando can’t help it – he’s drawn to the club, to this alternative world where he can do whatever he wishes and no one looks twice at him. He wants this in this life. He _needs_ this in his life.

Fernando feels someone’s eyes on him. He doesn’t turn around, but he lets his hopes up. There is something arousing about _not knowing_.

He doesn’t hear the approaching steps over the music.

Fernando’s heart skips a beat – it’s the stranger, it’s his body pressed up against Fernando’s backs and oh, yes, that’s definitely the aftershave Sergio mentioned.

Fernando spares a second to mentally scowl himself for thinking about Sergio.

The man manages to completely distract him, though, when he leans close to Fernando, wraps his arms around him and gives Fernando’s neck an experimental lick.  
Fernando gasps and tilts his head to the side, allowing the stranger a better access. There it is again – the low chuckle, and the flicker of the tongue against his sensitive skin.

The stranger’s wandering hands are driving Fernando insane, pushing him close to begging.

The stranger strokes the shell of Fernando’s ear with his thumb and pushes Fernando’s hear behind his ear. Then the warm wet lips move from his neck up to his jaw line. The press of the lips on the skin is hot.

“My place or yours?” Fernando gasps frantically as the stranger’s hand settles low on his stomach, fingers hovering just above the buckle of his jeans.

The stranger murmurs huskily: “Yours.”

That’s when it drowns on Fernando that he can’t quite bring this stranger back to _his home_. “Too far,” he shakes his head slightly, sucking in a breath when the stranger sneaks his other hand under Fernando’s shirt, his fingers warm against Fernando’s skin. “The bathroom?”

The stranger swipes his fingers over Fernando’s hipbone, humming in an agreement. He leans away from Fernando – who nearly lets out a disappointed whimper – and nudges Fernando’s side to get moving.

The stranger follows Fernando into the bathroom, pushing them both into the nearest stall. Fernando braces himself against the wall, taking in small, shallow breaths, his lips parted.

The stranger’s hand are all over him, teasing. It doesn’t fully hit Fernando how much he wants it until his stranger pauses.  
“Fuck, what now? Don’t you dare to stop. Come on, we both need this,” Fernando urges, his voice husky, the urge to rub back against the strangers crotch overpowering.

It’s enough for the stranger to continue his actions. “Keep talking,” he instructs, whispering directly into Fernando’s ear. His voice is low, it’s practically a growl. Fernando wouldn’t be able to recognise the voice if he were to hear it again, he realises.  
The stranger squeezes Fernando’s shoulder, his hold firm, almost bruising. “Your voice – – Keep talking.”

Fernando does.

**…**

 

**…**

A foolproof way to recognise bad ideas?

Ask Sergio.

If he just rolls his eyes, it’s safe. If he says he would do it, it’s a bad idea. If his face lights up in a silent _let’s do it_ , it’s a very, very bad idea.

If he just gapes at you and nods in delight, you should know that you’re screwed.

Fernando corners Sergio and asks him, tentatively: “So, how do you feel about music clubs?”

Sergio tears his gaze away from the TV screen and tilts his head at Fernando, asking for more details.

And Sergio has always been the one to put actions before words so Fernando says: “Get your ass moving and wait for me in the car.”

Fernando expects protests but all Sergio does is giving him a wink. “You’re so predictable.”  
Fernando scowls in reply because that wink does funny things to his stomach.

“Oh, come on, you totally are.”

“Am not,” Fernando says, fighting the urge to pout. Or stomp his feet.

“And what’s with that moptop, eh?” Sergio asks with that killer smile of his.

“It’snotamoptop,” Fernando grinds through his teeth.

“It so totally is. Let’s go so you can show off your dance moves,” Sergio cackles.

**…**

When Fernando gets to the car, Sergio quickly mutters something into his phone and hangs up, trying to look casual. Fernando studies him with suspicion. “Who were you talking to?”

“Iker,” Sergio admits, lowering his eyes.

“Iker,” Fernando suddenly remembers, “he called earlier this morning.”

“What did he want?”

“He was acting strange – asking me when I’ll be back in Spain and insisting that we pay him a visit. Then he hung up on me, not bothering to explain.”

“Oh,” Sergio says, his shoulder tense.

Sergio is strangely fidgety during the better part of the way but when they finally get into the club, he’s back to his usual cocky self.

Fernando chooses a different club than the one he frequents because he’s not sure how to feel about Sergio knowing all about him and about Sergio visiting the same club as his stranger.

He _tries_ to hit on Sergio a few times – he knows that he could get away with it here if Sergio took it badly.  
But Sergio makes it impossible and when Fernando shuffles closer to say something to Sergio, leaning a way to close with the excuse of having to be louder than the music, Sergio just laughs and shrugs. “Cannot hear you,” he says, stepping away.

Right then Fernando decides he’s done with trying to win Sergio’s attention. At least for that day.

Plus, he has his stranger now, who won’t stay a stranger forever. Much better than unattainable Sergio. Yeah, much better. Yeah.

Fernando sighs and lets himself enjoy the night. Tomorrow, he’ll look for his stranger.

**…**

 

**…**

“Mysterious fucking disappearances.” The glass doesn’t reply.

“Cinderella at least got it right on the third go,” Fernando continues to mutter drunkenly, glaring at the empty glass in his hand. He is tempted to order another one but he knows it wouldn’t be wise. With a sigh, he slides off his stool.

The world is fuzzy and bright and Fernando exhales in relief as he breaths in the fresh night air.

It was a good idea to arrive here by a taxi because he isn’t in a state to drive his car safely home. He doesn’t have to bother Sergio either, he just calls for another cab and leans against the wall in front of the club and waits.

The door open and a girl comes staggering into the street. Fernando reaches out to steady her but he’s too slow and she manages to catch her balance without his help. Fernando retreats his hand.  
The girl is only wearing a short tight dress and it’s too cold outside. She notices him ogling her and she beams up at him.  
He shrugs off his jacket and is just about to wrap it around her shoulders and take her to her place and invite himself in, when the door of the club open once again and a man walks to the girl. He shoots one icy glare at Fernando and then he is talking to the girl in a language Fernando doesn’t understand. The girl starts giggling and she leaves with the man, snuggled up close to him.

Fernando’s expression turns sour and he puts his jacket back on. “Are you cock-blocking me because I didn’t take LSD? No drugs, no sex – just rock ‘n roll?” Fernando accuses the dark sky, slightly slurring his words.

**…**

_♫♪One baby to another says I'm lucky to have met you. I don't care what you think, unless it is about me. It is now my duty to completely drain you. ... In a passionate kiss, from my mouth to yours, sloppy lips to lips. You're my vitamins. I like you.♪♫_

**…**

 

**…**

Fernando notices the black leather cord around the stranger’s neck. The man wears a pendant, a metal cross.

It’s completely impulsive. When the stranger is distracted by Fernando’s mouth, Fernando’s fingers quickly unscrew the clasps of the necklace. Fernando slips it into his pocket before the stranger notices.

When Fernando gets back home, he puts the pendant on in front of a mirror. The corner of his lip twitches and he slides the cross under his shirt, the metal cold and heavy weight against his chest.  
He wears it around his neck for the rest of the day but when he goes to the bed, the necklace keeps twisting and pressing into his skin uncomfortably. Fernando takes it off and puts in on the bedside table before falling asleep.  
In the morning, when his eyes register the leather cord, he groans, feeling lame and obsessive. He lets the pendant lay where he’d put it the previous night, avoiding it.

**…**

“You’re not going anywhere,” Sergio sing-songs, snatching away Fernando’s car keys.

Fernando wasn’t intending to ditch Sergio and run to his secret stranger – not tonight, anyway.

“Give them back!” Fernando shrieks and launches at Sergio, who isn’t expecting the impact and they both topple backward and come crushing down on the ground.

Fernando’s fall is cushioned by Sergio, who gasps for his breath and Fernando promptly uses that time to retrieve his keys.  
Then he rolls over and lies on his backs on the grass, watching the sky get darker and darker.

He wonders if his stranger is in the club tonight. Would it be too daring to hope he’d be looking for Fernando?  
Fernando nibbles on his lower lip, wondering how this was any better than crushing on Sergio.

He feels Sergio’s intense gaze at him.

“I’ve done something stupid,” Sergio admits.

Fernando turns his head to look at him. “Bad-stupid or stupid-stupid?”

“I think I made someone fall for my alter-ego.”

Fernando blinks. “Come again?”

Sergio huffs and shifts so he isn’t facing Fernando anymore. “Feel free to laugh.”

Fernando doesn’t feel like laughing at all. “Oh, Sergio, you stupid fool. It’s still _your_ alter-ego, isn’t it?”

“I don’t see how that’s helping.”

“Means she still fell in love with what still is a part of your personality, no?”

Sergio doesn’t say anything for a long moment and neither does Fernando.

“I didn’t meant to,” Sergio says after what feels like hours.

“You didn’t mean to what?”

“Create this misleading alter-ego.”

“It just happened, eh?”

“Yeah. I was supposed to gain tons of mocking material and instead...” Sergio trails off and slings his right hand over his head, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Is it a bad thing that she has feelings for you? Were you friends and it fucked things up or something?” If this was the case, Fernando could relate. But Sergio doesn’t reply and eventually Fernando gets impatient and – more importantly – cold.

He gets up to his feet but Sergio doesn’t stir. “Whatever, man. I’m getting inside. It’s freezing here.”

Sergio doesn’t even bother to hum in response.

Barely half an hour passes and Fernando returns to find Sergio in the exact same position. He walks over to Sergio and kicks his shin. “Get up. You’re catching your death here.”

“Fuck you,” Sergio groans, his voice hoarse, but he slowly pulls himself up on his feet.

“You wish,” Fernando replies easily, this bickering old and familiar between them.

**…**

 

**…**

Fernando is brushing his teeth when Sergio walks into the bathroom, yawning and stretching and nearly causing Fernando to choke on his toothpaste.  
“’Morning,” Sergio nods, reaching for the aftershave on the shelf above the sink.

Fernando spits out. “Morning,” he rasps. He finishes his morning routine in record time and hastily exits the bathroom because he simply cannot bear being this close to Sergio who smells like Fernando’s stranger from the club.

He retreats to his bedroom and sits cross-legged on his bed. He tries to calm himself down but Sergio emerges from the bathroom all too soon and approaches Fernando.

He pauses only a few steps away, a slight frown on his face and then he’s moving again.

When Sergio leans closer; Fernando’s hear thumps wildly in his chest. But Sergio only reaches behind Fernando, picking up the metal cross on the leather core from Fernando’s bedside table. He weights it in his palm, his face brightening.

“Oh hey, I thought I lost it for good. Thanks.”

And then he’s clasping the stranger’s necklace around his neck. Fernando gulps and watches Sergio struggle with the finding.  
“Do it for me?” Sergio huffs eventually, turning his backs to Fernando and holding the ends of the cord on each side of his neck.

Fernando stands up and fastens the damned thing around Sergio’s neck, his hands slightly trembling.  
“Done,” he whispers. Sergio turns back to him which brings their eyes to the same level and Fernando suddenly sees. Everything clicks to place.

Fernando takes a step back, looking stricken.

“Fer?”

Sergio’s small frown re-appears and that is when Fernando takes a swing at Sergio’s face. There is a sickening, cracking noise.

“Ow! The fuck–?” Sergio yelps, his hands shooting up to touch his nose.

Fernando lets his hand fall to his side and he studies Sergio, whose face is a mix of pain and disbelief. Fernando then turns around and storms off, slamming the door shut behind him.

**…**

Fernando doesn’t get very far – he refuses to literally _run away_ – before Sergio snaps out of his daze and follows him.  
Fernando is still furious because Sergio made him feel betrayed and humiliated. His shoulders are tense and he swears to God that if Sergio tries to calm him down by touching him, he’ll make sure Sergio suffers from more than a broken nose.

Sergio has known him for a while and he knows Fernando’s aggressive stance when he sees it. He doesn’t try to approach, much to Fernando’s dismay. Fernando would sell his soul for an excuse to get the negative energy out. Sergio stops on the porch, crosses his arms and watches Fernando walk away.

**…**

 

**…**

Fernando heads out to the club and he lets the music drag him into a completely different world.

_♫♪I like it – I'm not gonna crack. I miss you – I'm not gonna crack. I love you – I'm not gonna crack. I killed you – I'm not gonna crack. I'm so happy 'cause today I've found my friends… They're in my head. I'm so ugly, but that's okay, 'cause so are you…♪♫_

He stays there for hours and for the first time, he’s glad that his stranger – _Sergio_ – isn’t here. _Sergio._  
He arrives home late and makes a beeline to his bedroom, only bothering to take off his jacket and kick off his boots before falling face first into the mattress.

He wakes up to Sergio creeping around his bedroom. He freezes when he realises he woke Fernando up.

Fernando shoots him a nasty look.

“Can’t find my phone,” Sergio says quietly.

“Fuck off,” Fernando mutters.

“Have to find my phone and call a cab,” Sergio insists and Fernando definitely becomes awake after that.

“I promised to give you a lift back to the airport, didn’t I?”

Sergio pauses in his search and looks over at Fernando. “Yeah. But I totally understand... I mean I... I just need to find that damned phone.”

“How much time do we have?”

Sergio hesitates. “A little more than two hours.”

With a groan, Fernando drags himself up; his body stiff, shoulders tense, a slight pounding in the left temple. He fishes out his phone and rings Sergio – the sounds comes from the bathroom and Sergio gets in to retrieve his phone from there.

Fernando heads to the bathroom too, because he knows they don’t really have that much time.  
Sergio pauses in the doorway as they’re passing and opens his mouth to say: “You really don’t have to–”

Fernando’s glare silences him. Then Fernando’s eyes focus on Sergio’s nose and before he knows what he’s doing, his hand is reaching up to touch the tip of Sergio’s nose. Sergio shies away and Fernando drops his hand. “I didn’t even break it,” he grunts.

**…**

Barely looking at each other, they get into Fernando’s car. Fernando puts the key in the ignition. The motor purrs happily but it doesn’t disrupt the spreading silence. Fernando’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. The silence is heavy and uncomfortable.

Sergio clears his throat. “Mind if I switch the radio on?”

Fernando makes a small gesture with his hand – _sure, go ahead._

The moment Sergio presses the button the car is filled by music from the track Fernando was listening to last time.  
Sergio hurries to turn the music down but he’s not fast enough.

_♫♪What else should I be? All apologies. What else could I say? Ev– – ♪♫_

Sergio want to switch to the first radio station he could find but Fernando just laughs humourlessly and utters: “Leave it.”

They finish the rest of the drive in uneasy silence, listening to the songs.

**…**

Fernando drops Sergio off in the airport, barely waiting long enough to see Sergio disappear. Then he turns his car around and drives back home, pushing the rewind button and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel into the rhythm. He wishes he could push rewind on this whole week.

His home is quiet and empty and Fernando feels like shit. He switches on the TV but he doesn’t pay any attention to it. Maybe he’s watching a film. Maybe the commercials.

With a long sigh, he does what calms him the best – he heads out into the club. He doesn’t have to fear running into the _stranger_ ever again in here. He lights up a cigarette and lets the music lure him away from the upsetting reality.

He doesn’t have the energy to dance and he doesn’t want to pick anyone up as a company. That’s why he is so startled when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He freezes, bewildered. His confused mind can’t make a sense of it and so he swirls around to face _his stranger_. He needs to see him, he needs to know–  
“Sergio,” he says flatly, slapping Sergio’s hand away. Sergio looks down, unsure how to explain. Fernando doesn’t care. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“No, listen, Fer–” Sergio tries but Fernando slides out of his stool, slapping some money down on the table next to his drink and walks away.

Sergio gazes after him, cursing himself silly.

**…**

_♫♪Come on over and do the twist. Over do it and have a fit. Love you so much it makes me sick. Come on over and do the twist.♪♫_

**…**

Fernando isn’t even that much surprised when Sergio knocks on his doors only a few hours later. It’s so like Sergio to give him some time to calm down. Unfortunately for Sergio, this particular joke has gone a little too far and Fernando won’t be forgiving him anytime soon. Actually, he’ll never forgive Sergio.

Sergio crosses his arms when Fernando keeps staring at him. “My flight was delayed and then completely cancelled.”

Fernando’s eyes dart to Sergio’s feet and he smirks at the lack of luggage there. “The weather is horrible,” he says noncommittally.

“I’m staying in a hotel,” Sergio supplies.

“Good,” Fernando nods curtly and begins to close the front door again. Sergio places his hand against the closing door and waits until Fernando looks at him.

“I’ve done something stupid,” Sergio says quietly.

“Newsflash,” Fernando scowls, his voice harsh. Then his mind catches up with the sentence and Sergio gets to see the flicker of fury in his eyes before Fernando slams the door to his face.

“Fer,” Sergio calls out and taps on the door.

“Get lost,” Fernando yells at him through the closed doors.

“I’m not leaving until you let me apologise – and I could never apologise enough.” Then he changes the approach. “I thought you didn’t want to let this ruin our friendship.”

The door creeks open only so Fernando could hiss: “That was before _you_ ruined everything worth saving.”

“Without meaning to,” Sergio tries. “I had no idea and you never told me–”

Fernando snorts. “That would have went great. Hi Sergio, how’re you? Oh, by the way, remember that time I tried to kiss you and you told me with disgust not to do things I don’t mean? Well, I meant it.”

“Hi Fer, sorry I jumped you given the chance. I thought it would be the _only_ chance I’ll ever have and well, I obviously didn’t really think it though – perhaps that could go better?”

Fernando yanks the door open, looking around with a frown n his face. “Get the fuck inside, we’re not having this discussion here.”

Once they’re inside, they are both silent. So silent it gets awkward again and Fernando starts to regret his decision.  
But then Sergio catches a whiff of a smell – _his_ aftershave; it’s not just a subtle smell, Fernando _reeks_ of it.

He sniffs the air again and Fernando blushes. “That stupid vial broke when I swiped it off the shelf.”

Sergio can’t help it – he feels the smile tugging at his lips and then he’s laughing heartily. “You smell lovely,” he wheezes between breaths.

“Oh shut up,” Fernando says, blushing some more.

Sergio raises his head and regards him with a soft look, his eyes warm and unguarded. “Let’s do this again, Fer. Properly.”

Fernando knows he’s screwed. It probably shows in his expression too, because Sergio takes a step toward him and then another and another, until the distance between them stops existing.

Sergio licks his lips and then says: “So, am I still staying in a hotel?”

**…the end…**


End file.
